The Fuck It Philosophy
by little-red-letter
Summary: After the death of Naomi in Skins: Fire, Emily is left in New York, distraught. As she tries to move on, she realises that her past frame of mind isn't doing any good, so she decides to adopt a "fuck it" philosophy. Rated T for drug use/language.
1. Alone, Still?

"Alone, still?"

Emily turned around to see her twin standing over her. She knew that this mean streak was just Katie's way of protecting her, but she hated it. She swore it was over, for good, but then…

"Fuck off, Katie."

Katie knew better than to leave. She simply sat down next to Emily, and smiled at her.

"I'm not leaving 'till you cheer up."

Emily sighed. It wasn't that fucking easy. Katie didn't know what it was like to only have a few moments with the one you're in love with before they're gone. Naomi wasn't fucking coming back from the grave. There was no bright side.

"It's been six months, Ems."

Emily gave Katie eye contact. She hadn't looked anyone in the eyes since Naomi died, and it hurt just to see another person exist happily.

She hated Katie! HATED her! There was NO FUCKING WAY that she would let Katie get inside her head.

"LEAVE IT, Katie."

Katie left. Emily instantly regretted the yelling. She wasn't about to let Katie manipulate her again, or walk all over her, but she knew the loneliness was worse. She didn't even want to think about the state Katie had found her in-takeaway all over the floor, a mess. She hadn't even changed her clothes in a week.

The worst part is that had been her routine for 2 ½ months.

She knew Katie had come to New York to look after her. Katie's excuse was that she wanted to see the sights, and live in a country other than England for awhile, but Emily wasn't sure if that was a cover to hide Katie's real reason from Jenna or not.

Jenna had made it very clear that she no longer cared about Emily. She never liked Naomi, and saw it pathetic that Emily grieved after the funeral. Emily missed having her mother's love, but she missed Naomi's too…

_Thinking about that will just make it worse_, thought Emily. _Then again, I'm not sure that it can get any worse…_

Emily heard her phone ringing. But fuck it, right? Why should she answer the phone, or get out of bed, or live life to the fullest? There was no way she could love anyone as much as she used to love-no, STILL loved-Naomi, and there wasn't any hope that Naomi was the one calling.

She decided she'd answer the phone anyway, just to make the noise stop.

"Hello?"

"Emily, is that you?"

"Yeah…Why's that?"

"I need a favour…"


	2. Why Am I Not Fucking Surprised?

Emily looked at her phone.

_8.17. Late again, _she thought. _Why am I not fucking surprised?_

Her thoughts were continually interrupted by the irritating buzz the lone streetlight in the alley emitted. She assumed the bulb was about to die, which made her even more impatient. As the minutes ticked by infuriatingly slowly, she decided that "fuck it" philosophy she'd adopted wasn't a fucking godsend when she was waiting.

_Fuck this. _

Even from beyond the grave, she assumed that Naomi would still read her like a book.

_Naoms, this is your fault. I'll be fucking dancing on clouds up there as well, in a minute..._

"I'm sorry I took so long. The taxis from the airport aren't very reliable."

Emily turned around and looked the bitch in the eye. Emily knew that she'd gotten off far too easily. The few months Effy had bothered to serve in prison had amounted to fuck all, hadn't they? Her life had reverted right back to perfect, like that orange jumpsuit was just the curtain over an unfinished refurbishment.

"What is it, then? I haven't got all day", said Emily, her anger obvious and flaming, like her hair was back in college, "to listen to your bullshit."

"I know. She ordered it before she died, and it got sent to me."

Effy wished she could be more sympathetic, but prison had toughened her. Even the few months she'd spent in there seemed like ages…She almost felt some empathy for Cook, then she realised it was probably just that pill of whatever-the-fuck-it-was her cellmate gave her. Effy shook her head slightly at the memory, and passed Emily the bag she was holding.

"Holy shit…"

Emily was genuinely shocked at the order Naomi had made.

_What the fuck am I going to do with all of this fucking weed, _she thought. _Thanks, Naomi, this is really fucking romantic, isn't it?_

"It is a lot. Once, Tony told me about…"

Emily cut her off. "This is no fucking help, Effy. Just fuck off back to London."

Effy felt a slight tinge of what may have possibly been sadness. Then again, it was hard to tell these days-everything meshed together, and she was emotionally numb. The criminal stereotype wasn't so far off the reality after all…

"I was going to ask, Emily, if…"

"Do you want some, Effy? Do you want to take your share of what's left of my girlfriend?"

"No, it's just…"

"For fuck's sake, Effy. Why don't you take some? It's not like you took away shitloads of her last moments from me. It's not like you were undeserving of her. It's not like you're a selfish bitch who, for all I know, cursed the love of my fucking life. In fact, I don't even hate you Effy. You don't deserve hate. You deserve absolutely nothing."


	3. A Tiny Smile

Katie looked at her sister across the room. Even though they were very separate people, she still swore there was an unspoken twin connection between them.

It wasn't that she knew her sister wasn't really ill-any plonker could tell that she was a faker. It was more that she could almost feel the same depressing emptiness Emily was feeling. Katie also knew this wasn't just the same Naomi sadness that had been lingering these past few months…It was something different.

Emily came in last night with a suspicious bag, and she looked bloody pissed off. In any other situation, Katie would assume it was just more drugs, but Emily had been off drugs since Naomi died, and drinking too, for the most part.

"Ems…?"

Katie saw her sister raise her head slightly, but Emily didn't turn to face her or come out from underneath the blankets on the couch.

"Fuck off, Katie..." was the muffled response from Emily. Katie heard a new weakness in her voice. It was no epiphany, but that was the moment that she realised just how much strength Naomi had given Emily. Emily was weak now, pale and sickly. Katie figured she could throw Ems into a bloody hospital, and no-one would be the wiser.

"Katie sham."

Emily pulled herself from the covers and sat up. "Emzy sham."

Suddenly, the tension that had built between them recently was all gone. They hadn't spoken Twin in years, and Katie could have sworn Emily had outgrown it…Then again, Katie had been told by Emily that she wasn't always right in college. Maybe she was wrong this time, too.

"I know what it's like, Ems. Freddie died, remember? I still love him, and I'm never going to forget him or lose that feeling, even when-if-I move on. I know it's been years, and I know that he never loved me like I loved him, but it's the truth."

She paused to look at Emily for a moment, before continuing.

"At first, I had dreams about him. He was everywhere I looked. And I know it's pathetic, and I know I should be over it, but it's not that fucking simple. He's not coming back, Ems, and it kills me a little more every day, but it does get better, and one day, maybe, I'll feel okay again."

Katie saw Emily look her in the eyes for the first time since she came home the night before. The merest hint of a smile spread across Emily's face, and Katie felt a tiny smile emerge on hers as well.

They sat for a bit in comfortable silence-silence that wasn't empty, but was relaxed, comforting, butter melting onto hot toast and dribble-spreading around it silence.

"Katie?"

"Yes, Emzy?"

"Was that the door?"

Katie reluctantly got up from the couch.

_This better not be a salesperson, _thought Katie, _because if it is, I'll probably punch that slag in the mouth._

She trudged unwillingly towards the door to Emily's flat, collaborating every insulting term she'd ever known in her brain to throw at the salesperson that was, unfortunately, the most likely person to be there.

_Poor fucking slut of a motherfucking bitch won't see what the fuck is coming her way…_

Katie opened the door.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!"


	4. The Queen of Roundview

Cook looked Katie in the eyes.

"Something's wrong, like."

Katie was sick of all this shit. Since when did people she hadn't seen in years have the right to show up in her life and fuck it up? _Maybe it's karma, _she thought, _for being a bitch in the past. Can't karma just smoothen the fuck out before piling up and wrecking shit?_

"I don't give a shit about your life story, Cook. Last I heard you were in prison, so why don't you go back there, yeah? Have a fucking party?"

"It's Effy."

"I haven't seen Effy since Roundview, Cook."

She snorted a bit at the memory. Effy Stonem had been the Queen of Roundview, and Katie was desperate to impress her when they first met. They hadn't exactly been friendly since she knocked Katie out with a rock. _Why the fuck would I care if she's in trouble? _

"Katie. Emily was the last person she saw."

"Bullshit!"

"He's right, Katie."

Katie turned to see her twin, the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. It killed her to think that it was possible Effy, of all people, had fucked up Emily's life again.

"What did she give you", asked Cook, "last night, like?"

"The last of Naoms."

Just saying the words brought tears back to Emily's eyes. It was as if it were real, all of a sudden-Naomi was gone...And wasn't weed a great last memoir?

"My finest Manchester spliff, eh? Naomikins loved the shit."

"We don't care about Effy, Cook."

He responded to Katie's steely-eyed statement with slight anger.

"She fucked with my head, my heart, fuck's sake, she fucked with my life, Katie."

"She fucks with everyone. Literally and figuratively. Whatever happened is probably her fault."

"Oh, it is. It's not the first time she's tried to kill herself."


	5. Ain't You Ever Felt Love?

Cook couldn't help but smile. When Effy was asleep like that, calm, safe from herself and the world, that was when she was beautiful. Not a nightmare, but a dream, a place of serenity and perfection in the best sense of the word. It was like in her comatose state, she was finally at peace with herself, and with her mind.

Effy's hair looked stringy and limp, like dead worms all over her. Her face was pale, and she was still. _If no-one had told me, I wouldn't have known she was alive, _he thought. _She looks like a fucking angel after an overdose. _

He knew Emily hadn't meant to trigger her. _She's a walking tragedy, _he thought. _Another fucking sob story. I hate that I give a shit._

Emily and Katie had visited, but they made it clear they needed her out of their lives. She was a fuck-up, and it rubbed off on anyone she went near. _Lucky I was a fuck-up before we met then, eh, Eff?_

"Get the fuck out of here, you fucking wanker."

Cook turned around to see Effy's brother, the infamous Tony Stonem.

"Calm down, mate. I'm her friend, yeah?"

"Effy doesn't need friends. She needs me. Everything fucked up the moment I left her side, and you are obviously another fuck-up of hers...Or maybe just a fuck."

Cook felt himself seize up with anger. He didn't even try to hide how pissed off Tony was making him.

"Look, mate, it's not like that. I love her, yeah?"

"Since when did love ever help anyfuckingone?"

"Ain't you ever felt love?"

_He probably 'asn't. Cold bastard ain't seen sunlight up 'till today, 'as he._

"You obviously haven't. Look at you. You're a screw-up. Useless. A fucking waste of space. You probably did this shit to her."

Cook tried not to punch him in his face. If Effy wasn't his sister, he would have.

"What kind of fucking joke is this? I would never do shit to Effy, I'd never hurt her."

"But have you? I heard about you, James. I know that you were in Manchester 'till recently. Your whole fucking life story got around, you know. Living on the streets selling dodgy spliff that gives people cancer."

"THAT'S A FUCKING LIE!"

"You killed one girl, James. Why didn't you stop there?"


	6. Crying Over Spilled Blood

_A/N: Sorry for this chapter being much longer than the ones prior-I may have gotten a tad carried away. Please note (I'm not entirely sure how clear this is) italics within the fanfic represent thoughts, generally-if a character speaks and then it's written in italics, it's an unspoken thought. However, _Fitch's Stiches_ is a name :)_

mily sat by Naomi's grave. She didn't cry out of respect for Naomi-Naomi wouldn't have wanted her tears to paint the gravestone. After all, it would seem like she wasn't adopting the "fuck it" philosophy seriously enough if she cried.

_There's no use crying over spilled milk, _she thought.

It reminded her of a time when she was much younger. She'd scraped her knee, and it was bleeding continuously. When her father heard her crying, he smiled at her.

"There's no point in crying over spilled blood, Emily, love."

He'd gone onto a failed business venture, attempting to expand his gym business into physiotherapy. Although the business hadn't worked out, _Fitch's Stiches _had been the centre of a class project she'd done when she was 9 or 10, and the bent cardboard poster was a permanent reminder.

Her father lamented that _Fitch's Stiches_ was a better name for a comedy club. That business had never taken flight, but Naomi had joked that she'd perform there after her comedienne career took off.

"Hm...That's a stain you'll never get out."

Emily jumped at Katie's sudden breaking of the silence. "What stain?" Her thoughts muddled a little at the irony.

_If she read my mind, again, I swear to God..._

"The mud on your skirt. God, Ems, I'm almost mad at myself for not borrowing that to wear this morning before you put it on...It was so gorgeous..."

Emily frowned at her. She figured it was Katie's attempt at lightening the mood, but, they were in a graveyard after all. _The only thing thing lightening the mood in a place like this is actual light, _she thought, _and there's not exactly much of that, either._

"Why are you here?"

"Ems...Cook's coming to visit the grave. I thought I'd warn you, in case you wanted to leave before he showed up."

Emily inhaled deeply, and held it for a few seconds before she exhaled. It was meant to make her calm..._Some new-age hippy shit this is, _she thought. _I'm still keen to smack the tosser in the face._

"I'm not leaving. He can fuck off back to Manchester, for all I care."

"Please don't say that to him."

Emily was about to ask her as to why not, before she remembered. _That's the last thing I said to Effy before she...But Cook ain't like that. He's tough, right? An ex-crim and all. _

She paused for a quick sigh of relief.

_Wait...So is she..._

"I won't. He doesn't need to hear it", she said, "because if looks could kill, I'd be a mass-murderer."

"I hear the Fitch genes produce criminally gorgeous children...", said Katie, dancing around and grinning for a moment before remembering that there were dead people under her feet.

Emily snorted. "What about James?"

The twins looked at each other and giggled. For a moment, Emily forgot where she was and why she was there.

The problem with laughter in a graveyard is that however fleeting the moment is, you're sharing it with hundreds of dead bodies. Emily and Katie's faces dropped as they remembered this. The laughter echoed around the gravestones and dying flowers in a morbid fashion, and, even though they were together, both of them felt alone.

"Fancy seeing you ladies here."

They turned around to see Cook standing before them. "Look, Ems, Katie, I didn't mean to make you feel guilty about the whole Effy thing, yeah? I was just making sure you knew, like. Before the rumors started spreading."

"You killed Naomi, Cook."

"Ems...I would never kill Naomikins. The spliff was alright, not great, but it wasn't carrying cancer."

"What was Tony talking about then?"

"He was one of her doctors, weren't he."

"Are you trying to say that Tony didn't look after her properly? You lying bastard! Who'd do that to their sister's best friend?"

"Not me."

Footsteps approached the three. The tension broke from the conversation, building in each of them individually.

"Oh, sorry...I was looking for Freddie McClair's grave. I must have gone to the wrong one."

"It's the one next to this-", said Katie, "he knew Naomi and they were mates, so we buried them side by side."

"Wait...Cook, is that you?"

"Yeah, mate...It's me."


	7. Life Outside of the Past

Cook and the man hugged a moment, before Emily and Katie questioned who the man was.

"Look at him, yeah? Look at that face."

The man turned to them. He had weathered since Roundview, but there was no mistaking who he was.

"Ems?"

"JJ!"

Emily got up and shoved Cook away so she could hug JJ herself. "What are you doing in New York?"

"I come here often to visit Freddie's grave. I'm not sure why he wanted to be buried in NYC, but Karen swore that it was one of his wishes. Then again, Karen may have wanted to audition here, too."

Emily and Katie shook their heads. Karen had always been one for personal gain, but, then again, she loved Freds more than anything...He must have really wanted to be buried here.

Cook frowned at the pram JJ was gripping onto. "Who're the kids, mate?"

"This is Ellie, my daughter, and Patrick, my son...And if you look over there, the little guy running about, that's Albert."

"Shit...Really?"

"Believe it, Cook. I'm a family man now."

Cook scuffed the toe of his shoe along the ground in an awkward manner. "So you ain't keen for a quick spliff then? A beer, maybe?"

JJ checked his watch. _Shit, _thought Cook, _it's one of them fancy ones, with the I's and V's instead of numbers..._

"I could go to a pub for a bit, I suppose. I'd have to get Lara to get the kids off of me first, though."

The others nodded in agreement. Much as Emily and Katie hated Cook at the moment, they would rather have a pint than an interrogation.

In the distance, Lara appeared, picking up Albert (who must have been 4 or so) and walking towards them. "These your mates, JJ?"

"Yeah, this is James, Emily and Katie...Guys, this is Lara."

"Yeah, alright...Want me to take the kids off your hands?"

"Please, Lara?"

"Yeah...Okay...Come on, Albert." She pushed the pram away with her.

JJ looked at the gravestone Katie was absentmindedly leaning against.

"Wait...Is that..."

Emily smiled wistfully. "I guess we have a bit of explaining to do."

"So, you're telling me that you're still a criminal, Cook?"

Cook shook his head at JJ. "Mate, I ain't ever not been one. It's in my blood."

JJ was confused. _How could Cook be a suspect in Naomi's death? Naomi had terminal cancer, didn't she? How could Effy try to kill herself? Wasn't life in London pretty much perfect? _He held his head for a moment. The questions circling in it were about to cause him physical pain. He hadn't been so inquisitive in years.

"Naomi died of cancer, and Effy showed up to give Emily her last order of spliff. Emily told her to fuck off back to London, and she tried to kill herself, which Cook told us. We did go visit her, but then Tony showed up and said it was the cancerous spliff she'd been having, which Cook sold her."

JJ tried to follow the story. _I guess I have a life of simplicity, _he thought. For the tiniest heartbeat, he wasn't totally sure whether or not that was a good thing anymore.

JJ sighed. "I can't stay...I have a life outside of the past, Cook."

"JJ, mate...What am I gonna do?"

"I don't know, Cook."

"I fucking love you, JJ."

"Bye, Cook."


	8. What's Wrong with Being Fucked Up?

As JJ walked away, Cook's eyes followed him. Before he knew it, JJ had been picked up by Lara in her car, and they were gone.

Katie and Emily had gone back to Emily's flat, and Cook was left alone, talking to the grave of his deceased best friend.

_Why am I so alone, Freddie?_ _Why am I lonely, sitting here, talking to you? You can't save me anymore. You can't cover for my fuck-ups, or love me through everything, can you. You're dead, Freds. Dead. _

His mind flashed back to John Foster, the therapist who'd killed Freddie. _I sure got him, didn't I, Freddie._ Even though Foster was dead, Cook had never gotten over that he'd killed Freddie. In a backwards way, it was sort of Effy's fault. She let John get to her, and Cook hated himself for loving her still.

The sun began to set lethargically, and, as darkness spread, Cook lit up a spliff and inhaled deeply. After all these years, the calming effect was all just in his head, but he smiled as he felt all of the emotion and bullshit from his past fade into the smoke he exhaled.

Suddenly, a figure approached him. "James. We meet again."

Cook turned to face the familiar voice. "Tony Stonem, yeah? The big deal of the Stonem family, aren't ya, mate. I'm sure Roundview got a plaque or something."

Tony's eyes flared in the fading light with rage. The boy was skinny, not menacing, and Cook knew he could easily toss the plonker. "I'd be careful with my words, if I were you, James."

Cook snorted. "Why bother mate? You ain't a threat."

Cook could barely see Tony's face in the lack of light. It certainly had no definition to it...But Cook swore a smirk spread across it.

Without warning, Tony pushed Cook to the ground with unimaginable force, considering his skinny frame and vaguely even temper. Tony smiled at Cook's unconscious body. _That's what you get for fucking with my sister, "mate", _he thought.

Effy woke up with a start. It was the most awake she'd been in the week she'd been there, and she slowly came to the realisation that she'd been unconsciously dreaming as opposed to dead.

"Tony…? Why are you here? I thought you were still at Cardiff."

He smiled at her. "I'd never leave my sick sister unvisited."

"Where did Cook go?"

Tony's face lost its expression. "I took care of him."

Effy's eyes widened. Her thoughts lost order and her mind felt just as fucked as it had before she cut her wrists the first time. "What the fuck, Tony?! I fucking needed Cook. I…I loved Naomi, and I loved Freddie, and…And Cook is all I have left in the whole fucking world!"

Tony's blue eyes went cold with the realisation that his sister really cared about someone other than him. He didn't know until that moment that no-one was out to get her anymore. He watched Effy break down into tears.

"Tony…For fuck's sake…They all…Hate me. They all think all I do is fuck it up…That's what I am…A fuck-up, just like Cook. He got me. He understood me. He still does, Tony…And fucking hell, what's wrong with accepting love when it's given, even if it's undeserved?"

"You're wrong, Effy. You deserve better. Someone who can break you free of the shit cycle you're in."

"We're all fucked, Tony. Life's plan for us is to fuck us up."

"Effy…What's wrong with being fucked up?"


	9. Let It Happen

_A/N: Sorry for the wait for this next chapter, and the short length. I'm on a temp computer that is literally about to break in half at the moment, so I have to focus on doing schoolwork and suchlike before fanfiction :L_

Effy looked him dead in the eyes, as if she could stare directly into his inside and pull his mind and heart out, just to look at them, just to own them, because she could.

"I don't know, Tony."

She lay back in her bed, and felt her body ease. She closed her eyes, and became totally still. She looked totally serene to Tony-she looked like she'd found that nirvana that so many people spent their lives searching for. Tony sat down, watching her, not nearly as concerned as he had been when he walked in. He smiled at her, realising that he had never seen her that perfect before in his life. There was always some kind of complication, a scar that attracted the people around her to try and fix this broken angel. _She's calm, after all, _he thought. _It's not like she has the energy to make her situation worse._

Effy opened her eyes a moment, and watched him back. "You don't understand."

"What are you talking about, Effy?"

Effy gave him a dazed smile, her eyes fluttering. "You have no control."

"What are you trying to say, Effy?"

"The world dictates my life. I'm dying, Tony. Let it happen."

Tony was shocked at first, then angry, distraught, upset...His emotions all merged into a mess inside of him, but he didn't move. He just sat, still. Effy's eyes closed. In a blur, the nurses and doctors rushed in, trying to revive her, and everything he'd seen on those terribly dramatized hospital soaps came to life.

He thought he liked drama like this. He thought that he loved dancing with death, once...But after that bus hit him, his perspective changed. He'd do anything for the people he loved.

_It's shit, actually, _he thought, _because it means we're connected. I feel what they feel, as if I've got a fucking umbilical cord attached to everyone I give a shit about._

That feeling he had meant he felt a pain in his chest, as if he were dying, too. _Fuck it, _he thought, and he left. A nurse followed him, and he ignored her presence until she talked to him directly.

"Are you Tony Stonem?"

"Yes. What's it to you?"

"You can stay until she's stable, if you want to."

"No."

He began to walk away, before he turned to mumble a "thank you".


	10. Concrete into Heaven

_A/N: Oh gosh, this was a much longer wait...Sorry. I'll try and make it longer._

"Do you know what the cause of death is, Doctor?"

Anthea couldn't handle the stress of losing her daughter. _She's really dead_, Anthea thought. _After everything she's survived, she's finally dead. _Anthea couldn't make sense of it..._Oh shit...What if someone did this to her?_

"A second attempt-overdose. We're not sure how she managed it. I'm sorry for your loss."

_Of all times to overdose, Elizabeth. Just when your life started to be fucking on-track...Just when I thought things would be simpler..._

"May I come in, Anthea?"

Anthea nodded without turning. Emily entered the room and stared at Effy's body. It had always been skinny, and pale, too, but not like this. She was pure white, just skin and bones, completely still in the bed. Her hospital gown still hung on her limply, and her eyes were open. They stared at the ceiling intensely, as if staring hard enough would drill a hole straight through the concrete into heaven.

They didn't blink like Anthea's did as they tried to stop tears. They didn't blink like Emily's did, reeling in shock.

Emily looked at her and wondered if this was karma. She hated herself for pushing Effy closer to suicide, but she had been in pain. _Maybe pain blocks out our other emotions, _she thought. _Maybe pain makes us do things that we regret. Maybe I missed Naomi enough to fuck up the future._

She knew it was stupid to blame herself. No-one could take the blame for someone else's suicide...But she felt as if she worsened Effy's headspace. _She seemed so fine, though...So strong, a business woman...I was so sure she'd gotten her shit together..._

Emily had to admit that Effy looked content. It wasn't as if her facial expression was changing, but she had a slight smile-a knowing smile, a smile that saw the good and evil in everything around it, but didn't waste its knowledge on forming words. _Shit, _thought Emily, _even when she's dead she knows everything._

Emily kept looking at Effy, and the more she looked, the less it was Effy, and the more it was a body. It was the same feeling she'd had when she saw Naomi for the last time. At first, it was no different to the same person asleep. Then, slowly, she came to the realisation that all that was in front of her was a body that used to have a person inside it. There wasn't anything else it was going to do, except start to smell and decay. It was the single most painful feeling she'd ever felt in her life when Naomi died, and now, she was sitting there, looking at another corpse.

_Fuck the pain of childbirth, _she thought. _I'd rather have fucking octuplets than lose someone I love. _

"It's pretty shit, isn't it?"

Emily smiled at Anthea's question. "Yeah. It is."

They heard another person enter the room. "Oh. It's you."

Cook wasn't expecting a hero's welcome, but he didn't give a shit. He knew why he was there, and he knew what he wanted.

"I need to see her. One last time. Closure, like."

He looked at her body. It had a familiarity to it, he knew every limb and every curve in front of him. There wasn't the same blood flowing through them, and if he touched her, he swore he'd break her.

She was like a glass that was already cracked. She wasn't alive, but she existed, and that hurt his heart even more than if she had hated him while still breathing.

"I love her."

"So did Freddie."

Cook was taken aback by Anthea's comment. He tried not to think about how his best friend died. He knew, of course, that he was dead. He thought about Freddie every day...But Freddie died trying to protect Effy.

_He would've wanted me to take over, _Cook thought. _I fucked up the one thing Freddie needed from me._

He turned, and left, without saying anything else. The pit in his stomach felt like it was eating his soul.

"Fuck it. Fuck everything. Fuck them all, right, Freds? I let you down. I fucked it up. I'm fucking sorry, mate, but there's nothing I can do now."


End file.
